Spilling Buttons.

A few nights ago while walking into my craft room, I knocked a jar full of buttons off of one of the tables accidentally. The lid wasn’t completely on and the buttons spilled everywhere. My immediate feeling was that of annoyance and a robotic-like desire to clean it up. But something stopped me, and I just looked at it. I must have looked at the buttons and the jar spread across the floor for 5 minutes. An illustration filled my mind. A picture being painted across my craft room floor that looked very similar to my soul’s current state.

Lately, my soul has just been knocked off it’s comfy hiding place and has been spilling out everywhere.

The more Daniel and I feel led to lead, and the more and more God pushes us to bigger things, great is the fear and anxiety that consumes me.

And I’m really starting to see that I cannot be a jar that tries to hold all kinds of buttons. I cannot have the holy spirit trying to fulfill its work inside of me but also have all of the past traumas, sins, memories and regrets. All of these buttons are eventually going to spill out and make a mess (as they have done).

God knocked me over a few weeks ago and it’s been some kind of awful ever since. The beauty of who I am is stifled because of what I choose to define myself by. I haven’t processed, accepted and let go of so many things. The fear and the anxiety are only symptoms of the deeper problem.

The night that God knocked me over I decided that I’ve had enough. I want to be able to watch a tv show with my husband without gasping for breath. I want to be able to let Titan in the backyard without this crazy need to lock the door. I want to be able to go up to a broken sojourner at church and make them feel welcome. I want to love my neighbor SO BAD. I don’t want to worship my family. I want to worship God and have an overflow of love for my family. I don’t want to worship safety. I want to trust in God so much that it compels me to abandon common sense sometimes.

These days have been yucky. The process of digging, exposing and pulling out of sin and buried memories is a violent affair. It looks terrible. It looks like screaming and ugly tears and cigarettes and migraines and exhaustion.

But each painful time it happens, I can breath just a little deeper. My vision becomes a little less cloudy, and the mission is more clear.

If you buy into the lie that in the moment of salvation comes complete sanctification, and are trying so hard to live like you are perfect, then please. STOP. This life that you have chosen to live, the God that you have chosen to follow, is HARD. It is messy. It is painful and often lonely. Suffering is inevitable but also a blessing, because it has an enormous purpose. The bigger the dreams you have, the more God is going to rip the nasty stuff out of you, so ACCEPT IT. It’s an incredible act of love that frees us up do to incredible things. To be big creators. To give, and to give and to keep giving. And ultimately to make room for only Him.

Be encouraged.